


What Rosie Knew

by Upstarsfromreality



Series: Rosie's Knowledge [1]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Drug Addiction
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-19
Updated: 2019-06-04
Packaged: 2020-03-07 23:30:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,613
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18883504
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Upstarsfromreality/pseuds/Upstarsfromreality





	1. Chapter 1

Rosie always knew, in a way. Once, when she was still small enough for Papa to tuck up his shirt sleeves and give her a bath, she had asked where the marks on the inside of his left elbow came from. Her Papa believed in always telling children the truth when they asked for it, so he had told her. "Rosie, a long time ago I put nasty things in my arm, and it made me so ill I forgot how much I love the people who care about me. It also left those marks. But I remember now how much I love you, and I am doing everything I can to never, ever forget again. I will always love you."

Years later, Rosie had started having sleepovers where she and her friends got to take things out of the fridge. She noticed that, at least sometimes, most people's fridges had beer or wine that children weren't allowed to touch, and hers never did. She asked her Daddy why, and he had told her too. "Rosie, when you were very small I drank too much beer and whiskey. I drank so much I forgot to be nice to your Papa, and sometimes I even hurt him. I am doing everything I can never to do that again, because I love you and your Papa so much."

Rosie also knew that two evenings a week, one or the other of her fathers would leave for a bit and come back after she was asleep. They weren't working on a case, because when they did that they at night they both left and Rosie got to stay with a child minder. This was different, with only one of them leaving at a time. They both wanted the other to go, and would rush making dinner those nights to make sure they could leave on time.

One of the nights when Daddy was the one to be gone, Rosie asked her papa why he and Daddy left once a week. Papa looked her right in the eye and told her, "Remember when your daddy and I both told you we used to do things that made us forget how much we love each other and you?" Rosie nodded. "Well," said Papa "we both also said that would do everything we can not to ever forget again. When we leave once a week, we're going to a meeting. We sit down with other people who forget how much they love the people who love them and we all help each other remember."

Rosie looked solemn. "Does talking help?" 

"It helps a lot. We also talk about steps we can do to not do things to make us forget, and that helps a lot, too," said Papa. "We are both doing everything we can never to forget again."

Rosie heard them say "I am doing everything I can," instead of "That will never happen again," but she didn't worry about it. Her fathers could destroy bad guys, so of course they could beat something like nasty stuff in their arm or beer or whiskey. She didn't worry about it until one day, just after she turned ten.


	2. Chapter 2

The Tuesday after she turned ten, Rosie started to worry. One of her chores was to take the rubbish bins out to the street on Tuesday mornings for Mrs. Hudson, and bring them back after school. When she brought the last bin back this Tuesday, Rosie heard rattling noises at the bottom, which was odd because the bin should have been empty. Rosie opened the lid and looked in. At the very bottom, she saw three glass bottles. She couldn't reach far enough in the bin to pull them out and read the labels,and she was afraid if she turned the bin over to dump them out, they would break. Rosie didn't actually need to read the labels to know what they were, though, since they were a shape she never saw at home but did see other places. They were liquor bottles, probably whiskey.

Rosie put the bin back in its place, went into her room, and sat down on her bed to think. She knew that those bottles were a problem. Last night had been her daddy's meeting night, and he had gone as usual. Had he drunk all three bottles since then? Rosie was scared. She wrapped her arms around her knees and thought harder. She knew her daddy must have been the one to put those bottles there, because they were in the bin instead of a bag. Papa didn't drink because of Daddy, but Mrs. Hudson did sometimes. If the bottles had been Mrs Hudson's, she would have put them inside the small bin in her kitchen and taken them to the large bin in the bag with the other rubbish when the small one got full. Putting them in the bin loose meant they weren't supposed to be seen inside the house. It had to be Daddy. Rosie didn't want to think about this anymore, so she got out her homework, but couldn't concentrate on it. She finished it anyway, and then rushed out to set the table.

Wednesday after school, Rosie almost ran home. She rushed through her homework, and set the table even though it wasn't her day. She couldn't cook yet, but she knew what vegetables went in the stir fry her papa would be making. She washed all of them, peeled the carrots, and put them in containers to be ready to chop. She didn't want to eat any of it that night, but she figured things would work better if it were done.

Thursday morning, Rosie cleared everybody's breakfast dishes, not just her own. She did the washing up, even though it wasn't her day. She remembered to look around the living room for dishes her papa might have left there. Her papa forgot to put them away sometimes because it was hard for him to remember when he was thinking about something else. It was hard for her daddy to not be mad when that happened. Rosie wanted everything to be easy for them, so her daddy wouldn't drink and they would both take care of each other.

By Friday evening, Rosie thought her plan might be backfiring. She didn't want her fathers to worry about anything and all through dinner they both kept looking like they were worried about her. After dinner, they told her to get started on her homework even though she had a whole weekend to do it and went in the kitchen to do the washing up together. Rosie knew that was bad. The only time they did the washing up together was when they wanted to talk about her behind her back. Rosie went upstairs to her bedroom, thunked her heaviest book on the desk, and went over to the vent to listen in.

"John, I can see she's upset at least as well as you can,but there's no evidence she's upset about us. It must be school, or friends or something," said her papa.

Daddy's voice was high, like he was holding his breath in tight. "No evidence - Sherlock, the evidence is the chores. Kids don't do extra chores because they're worried about school. They do extra chores when they're worried about home."

"I never did," said Papa.

"Sherlock, the chaos that surrounded you as a child ended by the time you were seven and wasn't caused by the adults in the house. Harry and I used to rush home every afternoon and do exactly what Rosie's doing now."

"You've told me this before. You would do work that didn't even need to be done to keep your father from beating up your mum. Do you think she has any reason to be that worried about us? We've both been doing great."

Rosie could take it no longer. Papa didn't even know - she had to warn him before Daddy forgot to be nice. She ran out into the kitchen, shouting "I do have a reason. I saw the bottles."

" What bottles?" they both blurted out. Papa looked scared. Daddy only looked confused.

"The ones at the bottom of the bin on Tuesday. They were too far down to read the labels but I know what whiskey bottles are shaped like. Daddy, how could you?" Rosie almost wailed, but pulled it into a question just on time.

"Tuesday when you brought the bin back?" asked Daddy, looking relieved.

"Yes," said Rosie. Both her fathers smiled.

"Rosie, the bin gets emptied at around noon. You can ask Mrs. Hudson to know for sure. Your Daddy couldn't have thrown those bottles in, because he was at work until an hour after you got home."

"But who would have put them there? It's our building's bin, so it must have been him or Mrs. Hudson."

"It's ours, but plenty of people have access when it's out on the street.It could have been a teenager who didn't want their parents to know they'd had a party over the weekend, or a homeless person with nowhere else to put them. If you like, we can dig the bottles out and take fingerprints to prove it wasn't your daddy."

 

Rosie nodded, so they dug the bottles out. Seeing for herself that the fingerprints didn't match helped, and Rosie was able to calm down for the weekend.

But she never stopped worrying, not really. Because Rosie had seen the fear in her papa's eyes. That was the day she knew that "doing all I can," did not mean the same thing as "this will never happen again."


End file.
